


Dormant Love

by acceber (orphan_account)



Category: 2min - Fandom, SHINee
Genre: Coma, Dormant, Hope, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 03:58:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/acceber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A man in a coma.<br/>A man in pain.<br/>Three whispered words.<br/>A dormant love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dormant Love

**Author's Note:**

> Based on an inspiring true story I read online.  
> Short (580 words).

It had been a long time since the accident. Minho was still plagued by short flashes of colour riddled with sharp sensations. The glare of two strong lights before the blackness. The pain. The blood pouring. And not all his own. He had been next to him. That’s what they had told him, at least. The people in white that smelled of sickness.

Broken ribs, severe concussion, temporary amnesia.

All these words had not made sense at the time, and now they didn’t even matter because His eyes were still closed. Every day Minho visited Him but he remained unmoving except for the slight rising and falling of His chest. It was the only sign of life other than the mechanical beeping of the monitor by His side. A constant but faint pulse was the only thread of hope that Minho could cling to as he saw Him each day.

Minho clutched His hands desperately between his own and whispered three words, the only correspondence they had. Just three words repeated every day. In his deep sleep, The Patient could not consciously register these words, their meanings and implications. Each time Minho told Him that he loved Him, there was no response on The Patients blank face. No flicker of life, recognition. Just the dull, unresponsive face of a coma patient.

~*~

Today they were discussing pulling The Patient off life support. He has not been responding to any treatment, they said. There is no sign of improvement or any sign of potential improvement, they said. Minho had yelled and cried in protest. How could they? What kind of doctor would give up like that? They couldn’t give up. Not on Him. They had to keep trying. But none of them would listen to him. He yelled and screamed but they didn’t listen. They tried to drag him away, but he fought. Because he would not stop fighting. He couldn’t.

“Taemin! Taemin, I love you!” He screamed over and over.

He was not strong enough to keep the people off him. He kept trying, kept pushing, kept fighting for Taemin.

“Taemin, Taemin. I love you!” He kept screaming.

Down the corridor, in a small room, a monitor beeped louder. And louder. Faster, the beeping picked up pace as two things registered in the sole brain dead occupant of the room.

Minho’s voice, and the words he was saying.

I love you. Taemin, I love you.

With a start his eyes clicked open and he tried to see through the haze of his bruised mind.

“Minho,” He croaked. “Minho! Minho!”

Scared and sore, the shackled patient cried the name that fell familiarly from his lips.

A struggling Minho heard the tiny voice. He heard the tiny voice of the tiny man that he loved.

“Taemin,” He whispered.

He broke free of the restraining arms around him and fought with all he had to make it to that tiny man with the tiny voice.

He reached the door and his brown orbs caught the glistening eyes of Taemin. The soft brown eyes of the tiny man with the tiny voice and a big fight.

He looked into those eyes and they both registered, with unspoken words, that everything was going to be okay now.

~*~

All those years ago, Taemin had woken to those words ringing in his ears.

I love you.

And now he was by the side of the man whose words had woken him, ready to say I do.


End file.
